


these are not walls, but cages (and i can break free)

by Evoxine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 08:38:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14375022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoxine/pseuds/Evoxine
Summary: In a world where he has everything he could possibly need, Kim Jongin is not satisfied.One day, he meets Oh Sehun, someone who could only dream of living in Jongin's world.So Jongin gives in to his instincts, takes Sehun's hand, and goes off in search of life.





	these are not walls, but cages (and i can break free)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This fic is meant to give off a whimsical, floaty, sort-of-enchanting mood – kind of like how it feels when things get a little fuzzy around the edges. So there's no real plot to the fic, per se? I just wanted to write without needing it to really go somewhere.  
> (I really do apologise if that failed u___u)

It’s been thousands of years since the creation of Earth.

Time brought with it war and strife, development and progression, victory and celebration, life and death. Presently, the Earth is comprised of a single landmass, oblong in shape, and divided cleanly into two.

To the right lies Eden, a highly developed country built over centuries by the use of exceptional technology. In Eden, people easily live to see their two hundredth birthday; food is abundant, the streets are safe, knowledge is ever-advancing, and the masses are happy. To the left lies Sol, a country comprised of nothing but grassland. Here, people live under thatched roofs and eat what the Earth manages to provide. Life is brief and a constant struggle, and hope is something left for the naive.

The disparity arose out of bloodshed.

Centuries ago, long before the formation of Eden and Sol, the leader of a small clan decided to pursue the dream of immortality. He wanted, in short, to create a Philosopher’s Stone. After decades of research that led to nowhere, he stumbled across an old monk who seemingly held the answer. Desperate for eternal life and power, he begged the monk for his knowledge.

“You will need the blood of a hundred people,” the monk finally said, “to begin with.”

The man travelled to the nearest village with his best soldiers and pillaged it, spilling the blood of a hundred men without a second’s hesitation. Armed with the blood of a hundred men and the help of the old monk, he managed to create a Stone. Blood red, smooth, and weightless, the Stone fit perfectly into the man’s cupped palm.

“What do I do with it?” He whispered.

The old monk fixed him with an unreadable look.

“You take it into your body.”

The man swallowed the Stone. He felt no different than before.

“What else do I have to do?”

An old, wizened hand rose up to scrub at a sagged jowl. “Philosopher’s Stones are not eternal. Each Stone lasts for ten years. During that time, you will be immortal and have immense power. After that, however, you will need to make another.”

The man froze.

“Another?”

“Yes.”

The monk did not miss the waver in the man’s voice.

“I… have to kill more people?”

“Yes.”

The man exhaled.

 

 

 

  
Today, he rules Eden with an iron fist, referred to by his loyal subjects with the title of The Sovereign. His face and body are not a single day older than the day they were when he swallowed his first Stone. He had single-handedly wiped out 70% of the Earth’s population by the time he managed to discover a more… sustainable way of generating Philosopher’s Stones.

He’d found out that the people of Amytis, easily identifiable by their golden eyes and snow white hair, have far more potent souls – only ten are required to create a Stone. No longer protected by neighbouring countries that have ceased to exist at the hands of The Sovereign, the Amytis clan fled for survival.

They sought refuge in the harsh environment of Sol alongside others who opposed The Sovereign’s rule, and watched from afar as bounties were placed on their heads. The army would regularly venture out into Sol to capture Amytisians, and the captured would die in underground dungeons, sentenced to death for the life of one.

Citizens of Eden are constantly reminded to turn in any Amystisians they happen to find, with regular rewards offered for pertinent information. In turn, anyone found withholding information about them would be severely punished. As a result, several Amystisians pay ridiculous amounts of money for cosmetic surgery in an attempt to live a longer, decent life within the walls of Eden. Otherwise, they’re doomed to spend the rest of their short lives in the bleakness of Sol.

 

 

 

  
Kim Jongin is a twenty-three year old artist, painting landscapes and portraits for a living. He lives in a comfortable studio apartment by himself and works part-time at a nearby art gallery. When he’s not at work, he’s either busy in his studio, out walking the streets in search of inspiration, or he teaches art to children. Sometimes, he meets up with friends, eats dinner with his family, and visits the nearby dog park to coo over adorable dogs.

It’s a nice life, he knows. But there’s no _life_ to his life, and he’s not happy.

His paintings are beautiful, but they have no spirit to them, lacking emotions that should be woven into the colours with each stroke of his brush. Instead, Jongin senses apathy in its wake, and he knows it comes from within himself.

The days fall into a routine, one that replays week after week after week, and Jongin progressively gets sicker and sicker of it all. So one day, he breaks his routine, waking up at 11 in the afternoon on a Wednesday instead of his usual 9. He has three missed calls, all probably from his boss, but he ignores them and tosses his phone into a drawer. He grabs a chocolate chip muffin instead of his usual cup of black coffee, and he makes a beeline for the border instead of heading to work.

He’s dusting crumbs off his fingertips when he gets knocked to the ground by someone running around the corner. His knee slams painfully off the concrete sidewalk, and Jongin fails to stifle a curse as he grabs at it in agony. Thankfully, it’s a quiet street, so no one’s around to witness his embarrassing stumble.

“Shit,” he mutters, sitting back and kneading at his knee. “Uh, sorry man, are you –”

Jongin looks up to see a pair of surprised golden eyes staring right back at him. Wisps of white hair peek out underneath the hood of the tattered hoodie that the guy’s wearing, the attire a clear sign of complete disregard in respect to the sweltering sun beating down on them.

“Sorry; are you alright? That was completely my fault. Is your knee okay?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m fine. It’s not too bad.” Jongin pauses, then blurts out a hurried, “You’re an Amytisian, aren’t you?” Jongin’s never met one in person before. Their irises really do look like molten gold.

A pause, then a wary nod. The Amytisian glances over his shoulder.

“Are you running from someone?”

Another nod. “Yeah, actually. I was in an automobile shop, hunting for scrap metal that I can sell back in Sol. They caught me, I booked it, and ended up here, in an area I’m unfamiliar with. The farther I get from the border, the riskier it is for me, so I decided to stop and wait for them to give up.”

“This is a rough part of town,” Jongin says, glancing around. “A few gangs in the area. It’s much better during daylight, when there are regular patrols, but it’s worse at night. You should probably find a way to head back soon.”

“I know. I’ll… find my way back.”

With an awkward nod, Jongin gets to his feet, patting down the seat of his pants as he does so. He’s barely taken a few steps when he hears faint shouts and footsteps. Oh fuck.

“Here,” he says, yanking the baseball cap off his head and tossing it at the Amytisian. “Take your hoodie off and wear that. Tuck as much of your hair inside it as you can. Keep it low over your eyes.”

Jongin picks up the discarded hoodie and flings it behind a pile of empty crates. The shouting gets louder – they must be just around the corner.

“Come here,” he whispers, heading deeper into an alley.

He grabs the guy’s face, slots it into the crook of his neck, and turns his own so that his nose brushes the soft strands of ivory hair. After a second’s thought, he wedges his knee between the guy’s legs.

“Don’t say anything,” he mumbles. Fingers bunched in the fabric of his shirt tighten their grip. Jongin takes that as a good sign.

Barely a minute passes by before Jongin hears the gang run by. Someone pauses to look in the alley, but leaves after a scoff and a muttered homophobic slur.

“Hold on,” Jongin says, lips brushing the curve of a neck. The guy smells like lilies. “Better safe than sorry.”

They part after a few minutes. Jongin tries not to think about lilies.

“Thanks. I’m a good runner, but I doubt I would be able to outrun them when I’m unfamiliar with the area. If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be beaten half to death by now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jongin says hastily. “I’d be an asshole if I left you to fend for yourself.”

“We’re worth a lot, you know,” the Amytisian says with a quirk of an eyebrow, something shuttering off in his eyes.

Jongin doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he settles for sticking a hand out. “I’m Jongin.”

“Sehun,” comes the reply.

They shake hands.

But their meeting is quickly interrupted when one of the gang members chose to double back. Sehun is instantly spotted, that shocking head of hair impossible to miss in the bright light.

“Fuck,” Sehun breathes. “I gotta –”

“Come with me,” Jongin interrupts, grabbing Sehun’s hand and yanking him along as the gang member shouts for help. “I know a good place to lose them. Just, you know, make sure you can keep up with me.”

Sehun laughs and starts running.

 

 

 

  
“I lost my family a few years ago,” Sehun says, pushing his hair out of his eyes. The silky strands brush against his collarbones. “To your King. I don’t suppose he tells the public why he wants my people?”

“There are rumours,” Jongin says slowly, sipping on his iced tea. They’re in a diner, tucked away in a corner booth. Sehun’s eyes covered by cheap sunglasses that Jongin picked up from a roadside store, and his hair’s in a tight bun, mostly obscured by the baseball cap.

Sehun smiles enigmatically.

“Rumours usually have some truth to them,” Sehun says, nibbling on a fry. Jongin tries his best not to stare.

“Right. So, uh, why do you come into Eden if it’s so dangerous for you?”

“Two reasons,” Sehun replies, delicately licking salt off his fingers. “One, scrap metal actually sells for a decent amount back in Sol. And two, I’m a thrillseeker. What better way to pump up the adrenaline than risking your life to do so? I don’t have much to live for, anyway, so I might as well spend the rest of my – probably short – life feeling like I _am_ alive.”

An ice cube melts on Jongin’s tongue.

“There’ll be even more people looking for you now,” Jongin says. “The gang probably has all their people on it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the police have caught wind of your presence in Eden by now. The border will be much more heavily patrolled – it’s going to be hard for you to return.”

Sehun leans in close. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to trouble you for a bit longer, if that’s alright.”

Jongin finds that he doesn’t quite mind that idea.

 

 

 

  
They manage to make their way back to Jongin’s studio without any mishaps.

“This is cosy,” Sehun says, looking around.

“Sorry about the mess,” Jongin says sheepishly. “I didn’t exactly expect visitors.”

“I think we have different definitions of the word ‘messy’,” Sehun replies with a laugh, taking off the baseball cap and placing it down onto Jongin’s dresser along with the sunglasses. His hair slips out of its knot, liquid silver tumbling down to brush against a sharp jaw. “I barely have four walls and a roof back in Sol.”

Jongin draws the curtains with a wince. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s life, right? I was born with golden eyes, blood that makes your King immortal, and a bounty on my head. You were born as your King’s subject, and therefore free from having to live in constant fear. It is what it is.”

Sehun picks up one of Jongin’s half-finished canvases. “This is beautiful.”

“Thanks. It’s uh, something I’m good at, I guess.”

“You don’t love it?”

The question is sudden, and Jongin is completely taken aback by it. No one’s ever asked him if loves art – they comment on how well he paints and they try to critique his pieces, but they’ve never bothered to ask Jongin how he feels about it all.

“I… I don’t know.”

Sehun crooks a brow. “Well, if you have to think about it, then you probably don’t.”

He sets the canvas back down onto its easel.

“Do you mind if I take a shower? I haven’t taken a hot one in ages.”

“What? Oh, yeah, sure.” Jongin grabs a clean towel and passes it to the Amytisian. “I’ll put some clean clothes out by the door and I’ll toss yours in the laundry after.”

“Thank you,” Sehun says, taking the towel and padding across the room into the en-suite. “For many things.” He closes the door with a smile.

 

 

 

  
The moon is high in the sky, the points of its crescent pointing upwards.

Sehun’s sitting cross-legged on the rug, a book in his hands and damp hair pulled out of his eyes with a ponytail. There’s a finished bowl of instant noodles by his side, cooling rapidly underneath the blast of the air conditioner.

Jongin himself is seated in front of his easel with one of his sketchbooks propped up against the frame. The stick of charcoal is almost foreign in his hand, having not picked one up for months. But for some reason, it seems like the perfect medium for this piece. Jongin sketches Sehun’s frame quickly, the porous carbon transferring what he sees onto paper.

He’s unsure if Sehun knows what he’s doing, but he doesn’t think the other male would mind. As Jongin draws, Sehun reads.

“You have really long lashes,” Jongin blurts. He’s in the process of adding details to the face, and his brain apparently cannot handle drawing and keeping a mouth filter on at the same time.

“Is that a good thing?” Sehun asks, not looking up from his book.

“It’s… not a bad thing,” he replies, flushing. Sehun hums absently and flips a page.

Scratching charcoal and the rustle of pages become the only sounds to fill the apartment. It’s only when his eyelids start to feel dry and heavy does Jongin step away from his sketchbook.

“Can I see?”

“Sure,” Jongin says, shuffling over to the sink to scrub his hands clean. “It’s not polished or anything.”

“Art doesn’t have to be,” Sehun says. “There’s always beauty even in the roughest things.”

Jongin dries his hands on the sides of his sweats.

“It’s really nice.” Sehun reaches out and smudges a line. Jongin doesn’t flinch in the slightest.

“Thanks. I’ll give it to you if I ever finish it.”

Sehun smiles. Jongin thinks of lilies.

“You uh, sleepy yet? I’ll leave a spare toothbrush by the sink. You can have the bed.”

“No, I can’t ask that of you. I’ll take the floor. The rug is already much more comfortable than I’m usually used to.”

Minutes later, Jongin drifts off to sleep dreaming of running through lily fields.

 

 

 

  
Jongin’s the first one to wake. He makes a quick trip to the nearby convenience store and gets back just in time to see Sehun stir. Sunlight seeps through the shutters of the window shades and bounces off the pale strands of Sehun’s hair, causing them to glitter like threads of diamonds.

Sehun stretches with a sleepy, content hum, and cracks open his eyes.

“Morning,” he mumbles, shirt riding up a tapered waist.

“Morning,” Jongin replies, setting a bag down on an empty chair. “I got you some hair dye – figured that if you were gonna stay around for a little while longer, you should have a way to disguise yourself. Got some cereal and milk as well. I hope you aren’t lactose intolerant.”

“Hair dye doesn’t work very well for my people,” Sehun says, scooting over to the bag and pulling out a box. “They don’t seem to… penetrate the hair shafts well enough, and hair dye usually washes out in a couple of weeks. I’ve never tried it myself, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case for me, too. But thank you, I really appreciate the thought. And no, I’m not lactose intolerant, thankfully. That would make survival quite a bitch.”

“Go ahead and wash up,” Jongin says, “I’ll get you a bowl. We’ll test the dye out, and after that, we can…”

“Tear up the town,” Sehun finishes, standing with a grin. “Sounds good.”

 

 

 

  
“I’ve always wanted black hair,” Sehun says thoughtfully, flipping the box around in his hands. They’re in the bathroom, and he’s got an old, ratty shirt around his shoulders to catch any dripping dye – Jongin’s forearms are already considerably stained.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Maybe because it’s the opposite of white, you know? You could probably insert something here about how I want a life that’s the opposite of mine and whatnot.”

“Everyone wants something they can’t have,” Jongin says absently, coating a lock of hair with the dye. Part of him is sad to see the white go.

Sehun sets the box down and picks up the book that he was reading last night.

“You seem to really like reading.”

“Never had a lot of chances to,” Sehun shrugs. “I’ve picked up a few old magazines and newspapers from rubbish piles, but getting my hands on an actual book isn’t easy. It’s nice, it’s like a little trip out of reality, you know?”

Jongin works quietly as Sehun reads. When he’s done, he pulls back the dye-covered strands into a ponytail and lets Sehun know that he should wash it off in half an hour.

“Can you scrub all that off your arms?” Sehun asks, gesturing at the blotches decorating Jongin’s forearms, all the way up to his elbows.

“I won’t be able to get all of it off,” Jongin says, rubbing at a particularly dark patch with soap, “but it’ll fade in a few days. Besides, it’s not as if I’m unfamiliar with having my skin covered with colour of some sort. Once, I fell asleep over a paint palette and ended up with streaks of bright orange and red all over my face.”

Sehun snorts. “That must’ve been a sight. Wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Never say never,” Jongin says, shutting off the flow of water.

 

 

 

  
“It looks… good,” Jongin says as soon as the hair dryer stops wheezing. He pulls a few fingers through the ebony strands and finds them as soft as they were before the entire dyeing process.

“Does it really?” Sehun peers at himself in the mirror, the fluorescent lights catching some of the gold flecks in his irises. “Doesn’t it clash with my eyes?”

“You’re just not used to it,” Jongin says. “It looks nice – black goes with everything. And besides, if you’re right, your hair will be back to normal in a couple of weeks anyway.”

“Fair points,” Sehun says. Straightening, he pulls his – Jongin’s – tee over his head and tosses it in the laundry basket. Jongin tries not to stare at his broad back, milky skin marred with scars. “Let’s head out. Do something. There’s no fun in staying cooped up inside all day.”

“Sure. Ever been to an arcade?”

 

 

 

  
They end up spending hours in the nearby arcade, Jongin willingly spending money on tokens, buying enough so that Sehun’s able to try every single game. Sehun tries to stop Jongin from spending all that money, but the artist simply shrugs and tells him that money is made to be spent.

They discover that Sehun has an innate talent for shooter games – they spend so much time at one that a staff member had to boot them off after an hour and a half just so other customers can have a go.

“Well,” Sehun says, wiping his clammy palms on the seat of his (Jongin’s) jeans. “Now that my fun is ruined, how about we get something to eat?”

“I know a pretty good burger joint not too far from here,” Jongin suggests, stretching out the soreness in his elbows from having them bent for so long. “If you’re down for some burgers, that is.”

“I’ve never had one,” Sehun says. “But from what I’ve heard, you can’t go wrong with a burger.”

He follows Jongin out of the arcade, sunglasses resting high on the bridge of his nose.

“They make pretty good milkshakes too – have you ever had one of those? Actually, that doesn’t really matter, because they’re good enough that everyone should get one when they go. Man, speaking of food, there are a few places I should really bring you. Are you allergic to anything? Seafood? Nuts? Hmm, I should…”

Sehun lets the sound of Jongin’s voice wash over him, the deepness blending seamlessly with the smoothness, and he doesn’t realize that a smile’s on his lips until Jongin turns around and points it out.

“What’s with that smile,” Jongin asks, amusement laced throughout his voice.

“No particular reason,” Sehun answers, scratching at the dip of his clavicle. Jongin’s gaze follows the motion. “I guess I’m just glad that I bumped into you and not some asshole who would trade me in for money.”  
  
Jongin’s quiet for a moment before he replies with a soft, “I’m glad I was the one who bumped into you, too.”

 

 

 

  
Somewhere along the way, Jongin realises that he may be developing feelings for the Amystisian that crosses the line of platonic. Sehun’s laughter causes butterflies to swarm in his chest cavity; his smile brings warmth to his cheeks, and Jongin’s heart very clearly stutters when Sehun looks at him with those honeyed eyes.

It’s not a problem, exactly, but Jongin has to admit that he doesn’t quite know what to do with all these feelings. Time will tell, he thinks.

 

 

 

  
Jongin continues working on his sketch over the next few nights, and Sehun helps out by sitting in the same position he was in the first time.

“I’m done,” Jongin finally says, fighting the urge to rub at his eyes with his charcoal-covered hands. “I like it. One of my favourites, I think.”

“I’m flattered,” Sehun laughs, setting his book aside and padding over to look. “Wow. Is that what I look like to you?”

“What? That’s literally what you look like. I sketched you as best as I could —”

“Not what I meant,” Sehun interrupts. “There’s a… gentleness to this, despite the harshness of the charcoal.”

“Well. You’re not _not_ gentle,” Jongin says lamely.

Sehun turns to him, amused, and smiles.

“Do you, uh, want to keep this?”

“No, you keep it,” Sehun says. “Something to remember me by after we part ways.”

“You could keep it and we could just… not part ways,” Jongin mumbles, feeling heat flooding into his cheeks.

“That could work too,” Sehun admits, and Jongin glances up at him to see a matching blush riding high on those sharp cheekbones. “But I can’t stay here forever. It’s not safe for me, and neither is it safe for you.”

“I’ll leave with you,” Jongin suggests impulsively. Sehun’s eyes widen.

“You-you can’t just _leave_ with me,” Sehun says incredulously. “You have family here.”

“I could always just come back to see them. I don’t like it here, Sehun. Life is stagnant. Everyone seems content with being content, but that’s not enough for me. I want to feel alive, and you make me feel alive. Bringing you around this past week, doing things I wouldn’t normally do if I were by myself, indulging in experiences that others would probably label a waste of time and money… I want all of that, all the time.”

“Sol is a hard place to live in,” Sehun says seriously.

“All I’ve known is easy,” Jongin points out. “Maybe hard is just what I need.”

 

 

 

  
They decide to wait a few more days before they depart for Sol. During that time, Sehun keeps trying to discourage Jongin from coming along, just because he doesn’t want to see the latter go through dangers that he doesn’t need to be experiencing. But Jongin doesn’t change his mind.

On their last night in Eden, Jongin brings them to a nearby river, the water wonderfully clear with an abundance of water lilies and fishes. The dye is beginning to strip off Sehun’s hair, so he keeps Jongin’s baseball cap snug on his head.

“Eden is a beautiful place,” Sehun comments, settling down on the river bank and dipping his bare toes into the water. “You won’t miss it?”

“Beauty can be found anywhere,” Jongin says. He reaches out and closes his fingers around Sehun’s, the touch slightly hesitant. “Found it in you, didn’t I?”

Sehun gives Jongin’s fingers a squeeze. “Don’t give me too much of your heart, Jongin. Taking care of it is a responsibility I cannot promise I can uphold.”

“I-I’m not,” Jongin starts, wanting to deny it, but stops speaking when he realises that actions really do speak louder than words. He’s got Sehun’s hand in his, for shit’s sake.

Sehun looks at him knowingly. “I’ve seen how you look at me,” he says quietly.

Jongin shrugs, trying to pass off as nonchalant despite the furious pounding in his chest. “Might just be infatuation.”

“Maybe,” Sehun agrees, a smile dancing across his lips.

They sit by the bank for another half hour, toes slowly getting wrinkly from all that time spent in the water. They don’t let go of each other’s hand.

“Wanna grab some fries?” Jongin asks. “I’m in the mood for some salted potato sticks.”

“Sure,” Sehun says. “That sounds perfect.”

 

 

 

  
The sun is as hot as ever as they make their way towards the border. Sehun’s back in his own clothes — sans the hoodie — with a few spares stuffed into one of Jongin’s backpacks, along with a book, some of Jongin’s art supplies, and a small stuffed animal he won at the arcade. Jongin himself has extra money tucked away in his own rucksack, a photograph of his family, more clothes, a whole bunch of granola bars, and several bottles of water.

“Wanna stop by that auto shop?” Jongin suggests impulsively. “We’re headed that way anyway.”

“I like the way you think,” Sehun grins, tugging the bill of the baseball cap lower over his eyes. “Gotta bring _something_ home, huh?”

So as Jongin heads into the shop for some ‘expert advice’ on what is needed to fix an old motorcycle, Sehun slinks inside, grabs a bunch of automobile parts and stuffs them inside his bag before hurrying back outside and into an alley.

“Thanks!” He hears Jongin call. “I’ll come back soon!”

Sehun tries to stifle his laughter, but that fails spectacularly when Jongin finds him and grins.

“Amazing,” Sehun laughs, glancing around before grabbing Jongin’s wrist and heading towards the border. “You’re amazing.”

“I try,” Jongin jokes.

“You don’t have to,” Sehun says, throwing him a sideways glance. Jongin’s lips quirk.

Crossing the border was a lot more anticlimactic than Jongin had expected. The guard posts are surprisingly empty.

“The guards don’t really care who crosses the border,” Sehun explains, “since the public does their job for them. They spend all their time drinking, honestly.”

They walk for almost an hour, sharing a bottle of water between them and a couple of granola bars. Jongin feels the tops of his shoulders start burning under the sun’s incessant heat.

“Just about there,” Sehun says. “See that area? Low buildings? Yeah, that’s where I stay. There are many settlements like these across Sol; we’re spread out because it’s less taxing on the environment. There’re maybe… fifty families in mine? It’s pretty close-knit, it’s nice.

We had a pretty bad storm a couple of weeks ago, and my roof caved in. That’s why I went into Eden for scrap metal and shit — I’m trading that in for someone’s help to fix my roof. Hoping to finally get a solid, concrete roof this time, instead one of those straw ones. Life here is… a give-and-take system. No one fucks other people over, because we have to rely on each other to survive.”

As they keep walking, they start passing by herds of cattle, kept on patches of grass in the area.

“Our food sources,” Sehun says. “We don’t have the supermarkets you guys do, clearly.” He gestures to the wide expanse of mostly flat land. “We rely heavily on agriculture. Lots of vegetables, fruits, stuff like that. We have a handful of shops, but everything in there is shit expensive.”

“Do… uh, do soldiers from Eden come often?”

“No,” Sehun answers easily. “They only come when our blood is needed. Can’t risk killing a whole bunch of us at the same time, you know, it’s a waste of a valuable resource for The Sovereign. Besides, they need us to keep our population up. What are they gonna do if we all die? They’ll be next in line for death.”

A scrappy dog runs up to Sehun with a bark.

“Hey, Lily,” he coos, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. She barks once more before nipping at Sehun’s ankle and running off. “She’s kind of our communal pet. She loves everyone, so don’t be scared of her.”

“Anything I _should_ be scared of?”

“Yes, actually,” Sehun says after a beat. “I live with a friend, and he can be a little overwhelming sometimes.”

“How overwhelming?”

At this point, they’re just metres away from the closest house, and Jongin can see people milling about.

“Eh. You’ll find out,” Sehun grins. “He’s all bark and no bite, though, so you should be fine.”

The hustle and bustle of life wash over them gradually. Sehun greets a few people as they pass them by, and Jongin is surprised that no one looks at him with hostility. A little old man even smiles kindly at him.

“They don’t… care I’m here?”

“They can tell you’re not here to harm them,” Sehun says. “We’ve had several visitors from Eden before; the more open-minded ones, like you. We don’t judge people just because of how they look — we know what it feels like.”

They stop in front of a small hut, its door wide open. Jongin looks up and spots the ruined roof. This must be where Sehun lives.

“Baekhyun!” Sehun hollers, walking in and tossing his backpack down on a small bed that has a tarp slung over it. To shield it from the rain, Jongin assumes. “Are you taking another massive shit?”

“Shut up,” Jongin hears. “Give me a minute.”

Sehun snorts and turns to Jongin. “That’s Baekhyun. Brace yourself.”

Then, Jongin hears a toilet flush, and the only adjoining door opens.

“You’re finally — _ooh, who’s this?_ ”

“Baekhyun, Jongin. Jongin, Baekhyun.”

“I see why you took so long to get back,” Baekhyun says with glee, rubbing his palms together. “You had a lot of fun, didn’t you?”

“I ran into some trouble,” Sehun says, seemingly unbothered by Baekhyun’s insinuations. “Jongin saved my ass.”

Jongin only has time to blink before Baekhyun’s hands descend on his face. Fingers starting poking and prodding, and one nearly jabs Jongin in the eye.

“Not bad at all,” he praises. “And here I thought you’d be alone for life, Sehunnie.”

Sehun rolls his eyes, and Jongin wonders if he should say something.

“Er, we’re not —”

Baekhyun thrusts a hand in his face, and Jongin shuts up. Sehun grins.

“If you’ve spent two weeks with this guy, _and_ he brings you home,” Baekhyun says, thumb jerking over his shoulder at Sehun, “then yes, you are. He doesn’t let many people in, so if you made it, then you’ve _made it_ , honey.”

Jongin looks over at Sehun, who simply gives him an enigmatic smile and the crook of a brow.

 

 

 

  
Jongin tags along as Sehun runs errands. They drop off the metal parts at a house a few doors down, and they head into the only store in the village to get Jongin a sleeping mat — he’ll have to use that until another bed can be made.

“Wanna come say hi to the chickens?” Sehun asks, depositing the mat onto his tarp-covered bed. “I’m feeling like eggs for dinner.”

“Sure. Can’t say no to fresh eggs.”

They take their time walking over, and Jongin’s never felt so at ease with his surroundings.

“Hey,” he says, “what Baekhyun said —”

“He’s not wrong,” Sehun interjects. “I don’t let people in easily.”

“No, uh, the other part.”

“Ah,” Sehun says. “Well, if you want it to be so, it can be so.”

“Do you?”

“I didn’t correct him, did I?”

When Jongin glances over at Sehun, he sees the faintest hint of a blush dusted across his cheekbones.

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jongin says. He reaches out for Sehun’s hand, and they lace their fingers together.

 

 

 

  
“I’m a heavy sleeper,” Baekhyun informs Jongin, eyebrows waggling suggestively. “But our roof is currently non-existent, so you know, you should probably keep it down.”

“Shut up,” Sehun says lightly, stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. The moonlight glistens off the water droplets dotting his skin and Jongin tries not to stare.

Baekhyun chortles and turns around to face the wall.

“Ignore him,” Sehun says pointedly, slipping on a pair of boxers underneath his towel. “He has no manners.”

Jongin thinks he hears sniggers coming from Baekhyun’s direction.

“You sure you’re okay down there? The ground can get a little chilly at night. I really don’t mind swapping with you.”

“It’s fine,” Jongin assures him. “There’s carpet anyway.”

Sehun glances up at the sky and frowns.

“You’re gonna get drenched if it rains,” he mutters, tugging his towel off and draping it over a wooden chair. “Come here.”

Jongin sits up, confused. “Where?”

“He wants you to get in his bed,” Baekhyun says helpfully, still facing the wall. “He’s looking for good excuses, but they’ll run out soon, so just get in his bed, Jonginnie. Before he pops a vein.”

Jongin feels his cheeks blossom in heat, and he’s pretty sure Sehun’s in the same state as he is.

“Thank you very much for your help,” Sehun snarks, throwing a pillow at Baekhyun. “Please pass out now.”

“Okay okay,” Baekhyun laughs, pulling his blanket up over his head. “Goodnight~”

Sehun flicks his gaze over to Jongin, the question evident in his eyes. After a beat, Jongin gets up, grabs his pillow and blanket, and crawls onto Sehun’s bed. Sehun bites down a smile.

“Might be a little cramped,” he whispers, joining Jongin under the covers.

“It’s okay.”

They end up sharing the same pillow, faces turned towards each other. Jongin can practically count the number of eyelashes sweeping against Sehun’s cheeks with every blink.

“Can I kiss you,” Sehun breathes, barely loud enough for Jongin to hear. Across the room, Baekhyun lets out a soft snore.

Jongin trails a finger along the edge of Sehun’s jaw until he’s cupping the base of his skull. The remaining dye had washed out in the shower, and Jongin absently plays with the pale strands.

“Is that a yes?”

Jongin simply leans in and presses their mouths together. Sehun tastes minty from his toothpaste, and it makes Jongin’s lips tingle.

He pulls back just enough to thumb at the swell of Sehun’s lip, before the latter closes the gap for another kiss. This time, things get a little more heated, Sehun parting his lips almost instantly to welcome Jongin in.

They’re quiet enough, and Baekhyun doesn’t stir.

“That was nice,” Sehun mumbles when they part.

“Yeah,” Jongin agrees, letting his fingers trail down to Sehun’s neck, his shoulders, his bare back.

Sehun’s gaze is strong on his face as Jongin traces random patterns into the small of his back.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re gorgeous?” Jongin asks. Sehun smiles.

“Just you.”

“Everyone else is blind, clearly.”

Sehun huffs a laugh.

They fall asleep under a swath of stars, legs tangled together and foreheads barely an inch apart on the pillow.

 

 

 

  
Life in Sol, although without many of the things Jongin has come to take for granted (long, hot showers, for one!), is remarkably carefree. Everyone easily accepts him, for which Jongin is grateful.

Food is communal — everyone is free to take as much as they want, but people only ever take how much they need. The kids are always outside playing, and the adults are busy tending to things such as crops, building maintenance, and cleaning.

Sehun finally gets that concrete roof he’s been dreaming of, and the three of them spend an entire day cleaning the house, scrubbing down the floors, walls, and all the nooks and crannies.

“I’ve never been so thankful for a ceiling,” Baekhyun says, tossing his scrubber into the bucket of murky water. “Having to sleep with raindrops splattering against your face is not fun.”

“You could’ve just crashed with Minseok,” Sehun says. “You know he’d let you stay.”

“Whatever,” Baekhyun sing-songs. “We have a ceiling now!”

Sehun stands, stretches out the kinks in his back, and strips himself of his sweaty shirt.

“I could really do with a dip,” he says. “Wanna come?”

“I’m good,” Baekhyun says. “I promised Mrs. Park I’d help her with her chores today. She pulled a back muscle a few days ago.”

“Do you need us to help out?”

“Nah, the three of us will just run into each other in the tiny house. Don’t worry about it. Bring some berries on your way back though.”

“Will do.”

 

 

 

  
“Wow,” Jongin utters. “This is so nice.”

“We have plenty of creeks around. This is one of the lesser frequented ones, so the water isn’t too dirty either.” Sehun wastes no time in tugging his shorts off.

“People don’t use this water to drink or wash anything,” Sehun adds. “So don’t worry about getting it dirty. ”

He wades in; at the deepest point, the water comes up to his chest.

“God this feels good,” Sehun groans. “The water feels so nice in this weather.”

Jongin strips down to his underwear and gets in. The cool water really does feel amazing against his sweaty skin, and Jongin rests his weight against a smooth rock as he basks in the gentle flow of the water around him.

“Nice, right?”

He glances up to see Sehun studying him.

“Yeah.”

A beat. Then, “It’s been over a month. Do you miss home yet?”

“Not really. I’ll have to call home soon to prove to my family that I’m alive and well, but yeah.”

“Really? Look, I know living like this is vastly different than life back in Eden. So, um, if you ever want to leave and go back home, just let me know, okay?”

“Not leaving,” Jongin says firmly. The furrow of Sehun’s brows seem to smooth over.

“Thank fuck,” Sehun mutters, lunging forward to grab Jongin’s face between his palms.

The kiss is messy but explosive, Jongin earning himself some soft moans when he nips at Sehun’s lips and mouths at the slope of his neck. There are puffs of air in his ear as Jongin lets his hands stray further south – it hitches when his fingertips brush the curve of Sehun’s ass.

Jongin doesn’t go farther than that out of sheer respect, but it doesn’t take long for Sehun to whine.

“You can touch me,” he mumbles, lips pressed against Jongin’s neck. “Please.”

“How far do you want this to go?” Jongin asks.

“Just – touch me. We don’t have to go all the way right now, but I need you.”

With a dry swallow, Jongin pushes his thumbs past the waistband of Sehun’s boxers and groans when Sehun pushes his hips into him. There are enough shrubs around that Jongin doesn’t feel completely exposed, but he takes another glance around just in case before shoving Sehun’s underwear down to his knees.

“Mm,” Sehun sighs, fingers gripping Jongin’s hair. Jongin gives Sehun’s cock a tentative pump and relishes in the jerk of Sehun’s hips. “Fuck, that’s good.”

He winds one arm around Sehun’s waist as the other sets a faster pace on Sehun’s cock, the water providing just enough slide for it to feel pleasant. His gaze doesn’t leave the space between their bodies – the water’s clear enough for Jongin to see everything, and it’s glorious. Sehun’s cock is long and curves slightly towards his belly, the pale flesh flushed red with arousal as it pulses slightly in Jongin’s grip.

The sun shines down on them, the warmth contrasting nicely with the coolness of the water.

Jongin lets go of Sehun’s hip and slips a finger between Sehun’s asscheeks until it brushes against his entrance. He gives it a gentle rub.

“Oh,” Sehun breathes. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

Jongin’s cock is straining against his own underwear, but he pays it no mind, too intent on providing Sehun with as much pleasure as possible. He pumps Sehun even faster, the finger against his hole sliding down to push against his perineum before moving back up.

“God,” Sehun cries, nails digging into Jongin’s back. “I’m so close, so fucking –”

Sehun comes abruptly as Jongin swipes his thumb over the slit of his cock, spilling translucent white into the water. Jongin milks him through his orgasm, loosening his grip on Sehun’s cock in favour of sliding the flat of his palm up the underside. His finger against Sehun’s hole continues its ministrations.

The aftershocks are plentiful, and Sehun trembles in Jongin’s hold for a long time before regaining his senses. Jongin kisses him, deep and slow, and Sehun reaches down with a shaky hand to cup him through his boxers.

“Can I?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jongin croaks.

“Lean against the embankment,” Sehun whispers.

They wade over to the edge of the creek, and Jongin does as told.

“I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks,” Sehun continues, tugging Jongin’s underwear down. With a last glance up at Jongin’s face, Sehun leans down and takes Jongin into his mouth.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Jongin manages to say, back arching spectacularly as Sehun’s nose brushes along the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. Sehun hums, and the vibrations are fucking glorious. They stay that way for a few moments, Sehun working his throat around Jongin before he pulls back with a slow drag of his lips. Running the flat of his tongue up the underside, he curls it around the head, over the rim, and drags it back up the top in one indulgent lick.

“You’re killing me,” Jongin groans, hands fisting in the grass. “I don’t think I’m gonna last long.”

“Look at me,” Sehun murmurs, waiting until Jongin’s eyes are locked with his own before promptly wrapping plush lips back around Jongin’s length. He bobs his head rhythmically, the smooth slide of his lips on the downstroke giving way to mindblowing suction on the upstroke.

It really doesn’t take long for Jongin to come down his throat.

Sehun wipes excess come off his lips and hoists himself up onto the bank, where he flops down next to Jongin. They both catch their breaths, staring up at the bright sky as their chests heave.

 

 

 

  
They’re on laundry duty, along with three other people, hunched over large tubs of water and mounds of wet clothes. It’s simple work, but it’s ridiculously tiring.

“You have freckles on your shoulders,” Sehun observes. “They look nice.”

“I do?”

“Mhm, probably from all the sun you’ve been soaking in. They look like stars on your skin.”

Jongin’s eyes crinkle as he wrings out a shirt. Sehun flushes pleasantly.

 

 

 

  
They’re woken up one night by the loud, guttural roars of motorcycles and the unmistakable spray of bullets in the air. The village immediately flares to life, young children crying in fear as adults surge forward to protect them.

“Get up,” Baekhyun urges, “a small group of drunk men from Eden are here. They’re armed, and one tried to grab Minseok’s cousin.”

Sehun gets out of bed instantly, pulling on a pair of sweats before grabbing a couple of hunting daggers. Jongin watches with wide eyes and a dry mouth.

“Can you fight?” Baekhyun asks, turning to Jongin. “If not, stay here. We don’t want more casualties.”

Sehun turns around sharply. “You stay here.”

He and Baekhyun are out of the house before Jongin can even respond. He stares after their quickly retreating backs, and he manages to stay unmoving for a solid three minutes before he gets up. No way in hell is he leaving all these wonderful people to fend for themselves when he’s perfectly capable of helping. It’s been a couple of years since he’d boxed, but he has over half a decade of training behind him – he can do it.

Shoving his feet into shoes, Jongin darts outside and sprints towards the commotion.

He spies a few people on the ground, blood slowly seeping into the earth as they clutch at their wounds. There aren’t any fatal shots, Jongin notes as he passes them, so he only pauses to snatch up a dagger on the ground before continuing. Guns are scattered everywhere, and Jongin is relieved to know that the assholes from Eden are no longer armed with firepower.

Sehun’s in the middle of the fray, blades wielded as he easily ducks the blows coming from a brawny man who looks too wasted to be able to fight well. He sees Baekhyun throw an honest-to-god brick at a man’s stomach – Baekhyun has a good arm, and the guy crumples like a tower of cards. A few Amytisians swarm in to tie him up.

“What the hell are you doing here,” Sehun demands, eyes growing wide when he finally spots Jongin.

“What I should be doing,” Jongin replies, yanking a distracted Sehun out of the way when the guy totters close. He moves around Sehun, delivers a series of sharp blows to the man’s sides and the back of his head, and shoves his unconscious body back towards the ground with his foot.

“Thanks,” Sehun says, spinning around and kicking another dude square in the jaw. He flings his dagger, and Jongin watches it soar steadily through the air before sinking into the arm of the last intruder. The man’s scream ripples through the village.

A few hours later, Jongin finally slumps against the wall in exhaustion. They’d spent the time tending to the wounded, cleaning up all the mess, and making sure the unconscious assholes are tossed underneath a large tree far enough to prevent them from returning. Everyone had unanimously agreed on taking apart their motorcycles and guns and using the metal as revenge – they’ll simply have to trudge home with their injuries, bruised egos, and horrible hangovers.

“Pretty sure they came to grab a few of us,” Sehun says as he walks over, setting his empty bottle of water down by Jongin’s feet. “It’s happened before. They think it’s a quick way to make money. Sometimes it is, I guess.”

“That’s bullshit,” Jongin mutters. “The fact that that’s even a thing.”

“It is what it is,” Sehun shrugs, wiping at the sweat on his brow. “At least we’ve all lived to see another sunrise.”

Sure enough, the sun’s starting to peek over the horizon, drenching the sky in a glow not unlike the one Jongin always sees in Sehun’s eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” he comments, gaze flickering up to Sehun’s face. The morning sun casts soft shadows across his profile, and Jongin gets the sudden urge to draw.

“It is.”

 

 

 

  
Jongin becomes known as the artist in their village. Children come to him to get caricatures, families come to get their portraits drawn, and couples ask for sweet renderings of their relationship on paper. It’s not surprising that Jongin runs out of art supplies soon.

“I’ll have to go back to Eden to pick up some supplies,” Jongin says, flipping to the last page of his sketchbook. “I can also bring back some toys for the kids and more clothes.”

“I can come with,” Sehun offers, rinsing off some berries. He tosses one in the air and Baekhyun catches it easily in his mouth. A toddler nearby claps happily. “I’ve been craving a milkshake lately.”

“Those are great, aren’t they,” Jongin grins. Sehun rolls his eyes and throws a berry at his head.

They leave the village on a cloudy day, and Jongin is glad for the shade. It helps with the trek, and they make it back into Eden in under an hour. Sehun’s got his hair tucked back under the cap, but he’d chosen to forgo the sunglasses in favour of pulling the brim a little lower over his eyes.

No one’s by the border, as expected, and they stroll past it casually.

Another half an hour later and they’re in Jongin’s studio. It looks the same as it did when they left, although there’s a considerable amount of dust covering literally everything.

“Uh,” Jongin says, standing at the doorway. “That’s kinda gross.”

Sehun laughs. “Let’s clean. We have to sleep here tonight, and I’d really rather not inhale dust bunnies in my sleep.”

The bathroom is the first thing they clean – it’s easy to grab the showerhead and hose down the entire place. They move on to floors, windows, and surfaces next, before moving on to cleaning the smaller things. Laundry is last, and by the time Jongin tugs fresh sheets over his mattress, the sun is beginning to set.

“I need a fucking shower,” Jongin groans, sinking down onto a chair.

“Not yet,” Sehun pants, straightening from where he’d been mopping down the floors for the third time. “I need food.”

“Wanna hear a good compromise?” Jongin asks, peering up through sweaty bangs. “We order food.”

Sehun tilts his head. “What’s that?”

 

 

 

  
“That is amazing,” Sehun says, staring bug-eyed at the bags of food in Jongin’s hand. He’d just gotten out of the shower, and he has piping hot food ready for him!

“I know,” Jongin says, grinning. “Here, dig in. You must be starving – we didn’t have lunch.”

“I’ve gone longer without food,” Sehun says, settling down on the edge of Jongin’s bed. He’s dressed in nothing but his towel, but food is more of a priority right now.

“Yeah, but right now, you don’t have to,” Jongin points out. “So eat.”

They eat, Sehun humming happily around his straw as he sucks what is essentially melted ice cream up the thin tube. They’d ordered from the burger place that Jongin had brought them to back when they first met – it provides them with enough material for some reminiscing.

“This wasn’t how I thought things would turn out when I stepped foot into Eden all those months ago,” Sehun says around a mouthful of fries.

“This wasn’t how I thought things would turn out when I decided to skip work all those months ago,” Jongin tosses back, laughing when Sehun blinks reproachfully at him.

“You skipped work?”

“Hey, it turned out for the best, didn’t it? I met you.”

Sehun’s gaze softens. “That you did.”

 

 

 

  
It’s comfortable underneath the covers, the portable air conditioning unit aimed right at the bed as they snuggle close together.

“Remind me to call my ‘rents tomorrow morning,” Jongin says, nosing along Sehun’s jaw. Sehun hums, eyes fluttering shut. “We’ll go a quieter part of town, just so we can get what we need without having to look over our shoulders the entire time.”

“Okay,” Sehun agrees, running a palm down Jongin’s chest. A nail grazes over a nipple, and it hardens almost instantly at the touch. “Oh?”

“Sensitive,” Jongin mumbles, burying his face in Sehun’s hair with a deep inhale. “You know that.”

“Mm.” Sehun thumbs at the peak a few times, chuckling when Jongin muffles a groan into the pillow. When Sehun rolls it gently between his thumb and forefinger, Jongin’s hips buck involuntarily into his.

“If you don’t stop soon, it might get –”

“I know,” Sehun interrupts. “I want it to go there.”

Jongin raises an eyebrow.

“We have _privacy_ ,” Sehun points out. “And a bed big enough to roll around in.”

Sehun makes a good point. For the past couple of months, all they’ve done is suck each other off in the shower have mutual masturbation sessions at night. They’ve never had the chance to do more.

“Okay,” Jongin breathes. Sehun’s ever-bright eyes light up even more.

 

 

 

  
Sehun’s legs are trembling furiously with the effort of keeping his sanity in check when Jongin parts his cheeks and sweeps the first of many licks across his hole. He’s nearly bent in half, Jongin’s eyes flickering up to his face ever-so-often as his tongue circles once, twice, thrice around his entrance before dipping in and hooking against the rim. He applies just enough suction to coax a wail out of Sehun’s kiss-swollen lips.

Jongin groans when Sehun pulls on his hair and clamps strong thighs around his face. It takes a ton of willpower not to palm at himself through his underwear. Grabbing the wrist connected to the hand that’s currently fisting his hair, Jongin presses it back against Sehun’s side and whispers a, “I wanna hear you,” before moving up and taking Sehun’s pretty cock into his mouth.

“Oh fuck.” Sehun’s fingers fist in the sheets instead.

It doesn’t take long before Jongin’s three knuckles deep inside Sehun’s heat, fingers curling with each push inside. Sehun thinks he sees stars.

It’s pure bliss when Jongin finally pushes home, palms flat on either side of Sehun’s head as he rocks his hips, first tentatively, then confidently. Moonlight filters in from the blinds and illuminates Sehun’s skin, highlighting the dip of his hips, the faint ridges of his chest, long legs, thick lashes.

“So good for me,” Jongin murmurs, pushing in and watching in awe as Sehun’s head tilts back in a silent moan. There’re so many things to take in – the way Sehun wrecks the sheets with his vice-like grip, the way his face twists in pleasure when the head of Jongin’s cock nudges his prostate just right. Neither one of them lasts long, not with the hot swell of Sehun’s ass, the dazed looks they trade, and the way Sehun pants out a come for me, Jongin, fuck.

“We need another shower,” Sehun mumbles after Jongin pulls out and flops onto the bed bonelessly.

“Have you ever had shower sex?” Jongin asks seriously.

Sehun laughs until his stomach hurts.

 

 

 

  
After stuffing their backpacks with fresh clothes, new art supplies, and snacks for the kids back in Sol, they start making their way back towards the border. Sehun’s got a large cup of iced Coke in his hands, Jongin’s munching away on a doughnut, and they’re engaged in light conversation when someone calls out Jongin’s name.

“Is that really you?”

A sudden spike of fear stabs through Jongin’s heart before he recognizes the owner of the voice.

“Junmyeon?”

It’s his co-worker – well, former co-worker – Kim Junmyeon.

“I haven’t seen you in months. I heard you quit?”

“Not quite,” Jongin says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Sehun snorts quietly. “I just… didn’t want to go one day, and that kinda… kept going.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon says. He glances over at Sehun briefly, turns back to Jongin, and pauses. He does a double-take. “Wait.”

The couple freeze, Sehun ready to book it the second Jongin deems it unsafe.

“You’re an –”

“Don’t,” Jongin interrupts, holding out a hand. “Don’t say anything. Please.”

Junmyeon’s brows furrow.

“I uh, bumped into him a while ago. We’re together. It’s a long story, but please don’t say anything to anyone. I can’t afford to lose him.”

Junmyeon, clearly still taken aback, nods slowly. His eyes don’t leave Sehun’s even, golden gaze. “Yeah, sure. I won’t say anything.”

“Thanks,” Jongin exhales. “We’re uh, gonna go now. If you see my family… don’t tell them anything either. If they ask, just say I’m doing fine.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Home,” Jongin says, exchanging a smile with Sehun.

“But that way’s the border,” Junmyeon says, evidently confused.

“Yes, it is,” Jongin agrees. He grabs Sehun’s hand and gives it a squeeze. Then, with a small wave, they turn away from Junmyeon and continue walking. A lock of white hair slips free of its confines, and Sehun pays it no mind as it flutters in the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> • The brief, alchemy part in the beginning (the Philosopher's Stone) is based on the anime/manga Fullmetal Alchemist! (If you've noticed, Amytis is the daughter of Xerxes and Amestris, both of which were places in FMA!)  
> • Writing this was nice; there was no destination I needed or wanted to get to, so I could just follow wherever my muse took me. It's probably one of my favourite fics to date, mostly based on how it felt exploring the universe and writing it.  
> • The ending is meant to be vague, leaving their future unknown and thus open to endless possibilities. Would they live a quiet life and grow old in Sol together? Embark on a journey to take down the selfish ruler of Eden? Who knows?  
> • I tried to write the sex scenes less... vividly (lol) than I usually do because otherwise, it would probably fuck up the overall mood of the fic. 
> 
>    
> [Click for Links!](https://bluedveins.wixsite.com/evoxine)


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